


The Other Guy

by thatdragonchic



Category: Eyewitness (US TV)
Genre: M/M, and I hope you like it, and boyfriend, comes back, just things i've been writing for friends, not so much philkas, philip's ex boyfriend, philip's friends, please comment!!!, so i posted here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-13
Updated: 2016-12-14
Packaged: 2018-09-08 06:51:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8834626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatdragonchic/pseuds/thatdragonchic
Summary: Philip would never admit it to Lukas directly- but he was always the other guy, the rebound of sorts. And this is every universe where Philip and Lukas just don't work out, and Philip ends up back in the arms of Laurelle ORminifics of a ship that my eyewitness friends and I have made and it's become pretty popular amongst us- so I thought you'd like it





	1. 300K protection

Philip was just stretching when he heard it, Laurelle asking about being kissed, groaning as he stretched. "When I get 100k," he says, Laurelle grabbing him by the arms and pulling himself closer. Philip doesn't even think about it, he just leans back to relax. Gabe takes a firm note of this, the sheer comfort between the two of them. Lukas doesn't seem to miss it either, he's furious- that Philip is so comfortably close with another man. an older man even.   
"How about... 300 thousand and the keys to a brand new car?"  
"Ooo how tempting," Philip cooes. "I might have to take you up on that offer but I don't know if Lukas would like it much." It doesn't stop Philip from letting Laurelle lean in a little closer, Philip's brow raised in a challenge- he doesn't think Laurelle would do it, kiss him there in front of Lukas. (Not that Philip wants to stop him. His presence is so warm, he misses this so much. They bounce back so easy and all Philip wants is to get lost... is to feel himself sinking between Laurelle's fingers, pressed to his neck, hugging his body, talking like they do. Joking like they do. He wouldn't stop him, and in his defense he got 300 THOUSAND dollars and a car.)   
But the flame dies out when Lukas absently coughs, reminding them he's there and his allusive fades. It was all there, right at his fingertips. The love of his life, the pure numbness and pleasure that came with kissing Laurelle. How nice it was.... how soft, how dirty, how sweet- how Laurelle was everything and nothing. Lukas was one thing only- dirty and desperate and hot, clinging to him like he couldn't breathe. And fuck Philip wants to breathe.  
Laurelle laughs though. "You don't know he wants to kill me in my sleep."  
"Your heart would look nice in a glass case next to my bed."  
 "I would prefer you two in totally separate beds, in totally separate places."   
   Maybe that's what Lukas wanted but Philip has a feeling his mind won't be in the same bed Lukas is in for a long time after this. And not that it was Lukas' fault, it was all just the fact that Philip loved to be foolish and forget that he had no resolve when it came to his boy. 


	2. Open the Flood Gates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When ryan is about to kill Philip, Laurelle manages to save the day

The gun pressed to his head brought a familiar rush of death and pain. "What are you waiting for, just do it," Philip just barely manages to spit out angrily. He can hear Lukas sob helplessly behind him and Philip knows that the sooner it's over, the sooner things move on. This is the end, it's not that he had much worth or much to live forth. "Listen, the sooner you end this, the better things will be for everybody else. For you and for me both."  
It hurts, it breaks Lukas in half. That the end of everything was so appeasing to Philip- and even further so, that even in a moment of pure fear, where Philip should be begging and pleading, he challenged the conquest that was meant to reign over him. The boy couldn't put down the fight if he wanted to, he was sitting here telling Ryan Kane, the man that haunted them both, to kill him. He was challenging the ordeal and pleading guilty.  
Lukas just barely watches the pain in Ryan's eyes, the way his hands are shaking. But he can't see Philip. He can't see if he's close to crying, or if his jaw is locked. He can't see him, can't see the surely stern and strong expression that must be there. "I hate anticipating," Philip decides. "Unless you're waiting for somebody to burst in here and get you, you better hit and run fast."  
Ryan almost does but the doors burst open and the police are shouting at the top of their lungs- NYPD gave him the right to remain silent, removing the boys from his hold and some open relief floods through him but Philip has yet to falter. They're unbound from the ropes they're tied in, they're help out. Philip and Lukas don't so much as look at each other, let alone say a word. Everything felt so tense.   
But then sitting outside, leaning against the ambulance is Laurelle, in all black, with his hair tied back in a bun and Philip can't help it. He sees him and everything floods through an gate, not just a wave that is surged under the sand, but like a flood, plowing all the fences down and Philip runs, like a child finding their parent in the store, and into Laurelle's arms. And Laurelle is equally shocked and relieved and they're both crying. Philip is holding him so tight.  
"I'm okay... I'm okay," he repeats, as if trying to soothe him. "how did you know?"   
"The sensor tracker, for when you were in these places... it alerted me, and I was able to tap in- Oh my god I was terrified. Philip I've never been so scared."  
Philip nods, his heart racing in his chest. He was clutching Laurelle before pulling away. "Lukas is hurt, we were in the hospital when he took us," Philip says whirling around to find Lukas, who was already being tended to on a gurney by EMT's. He looks to Laurelle and he feels like his lungs have opened up wide with air- it's as if he's breathing all of a sudden. His eyes are glassy.   
"You have a cut," Laurelle assesses, just skimming over the bloody wound on the side of his head.   
"We have to take them both," one of Laurelle's friends, also an EMT, says as he steps forward and Laurelle nods, showing his friend who hisses as if he was the one that got the cut.

Philip exits the check up room in the hospital and walks into the waiting room where Helen and Gabe are sitting, alongside Laurelle who seems nervous.   
"They want me to stay here a while too," he announces and they all look up. "They suspect that I might be concussed and that maybe some bones are broken. It needs to be checked out."  
They all nod and Laurelle stands up, taking his hand. "how's Lukas?"  
"I don't know, they haven't told me anything."   
Helen and Gabe watch the two with quiet interest and Philip looks up Laurelle. "Oh... Well I'm more than glad you're just a little off your rocker. That's nothing new."  
Philip scoffs and nudges him slightly only to sway a little, getting dizzy. Laurelle holds him in place and Philip rests against him for a moment. "You were only there because you love me."  
"And if I wasn't you wouldn't be here."  
"Thank you for that... for looking after me."  
"Even if I didn't care for you and I thought you were the most horrible human being on earth... I would still have been there. You know that don't you?"   
"I... Of course I do. You've never let people drown." Philip's brow furrows and the nurse walks in.   
"Philip, bring your parents so we can go to your room," she requests softly and he nods. He leans up and gives a quick kiss to Laurelle's cheek.  
"Go back to your boyfriend," Laurelle whispers and Philip bites his lips and laughs. "I gotta go, you'll be okay?"   
"I'll be just fine. Like I always am."


	3. Coffee House in Projects

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Philip can't sleep so he turns to Laurelle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tbh this is one of the best pieces I've written in a while

# 3 - coffee house in projects

 

Part of him missed the watered down coffee, a little too bitter and a little burnt tasting. He always took no cream because the coffee here never required cream, it was cheap and good on its own. Sugar only removed any flavor that the coffee contained. His hands were shaking just slightly, he watched as Laurelle sat down beside him.

¨I bet the coffee in the country is better,” he says. Philip nod's, sipping slowly from the mug. 

¨It really varies… depends on what you buy or where you buy it. City coffee is good, just not in projects… or well this area of projects.¨ 

Laurelle nods and Philip is dimly illuminated by the orange light of the diner, he's in sweats: skinny joggers and a thick sweatshirt, his hair a bit of a mess. He had these cute glasses that just looked natural on the bridge of his nose. Laurelle, with all that he was, couldn’t help but smile softly at the site as Philip stared emptily in his cup. “Any reason you needed me here, at 2 in the morning?”

“Not that you were sleeping,” Philip shot back. “I just needed some living company.”

“Like all your friends are dead.”

“Death and slumber are closely related cousins, often synonymous.”

Laurelle nods, leaning into the seat. “I was watching that movie, that you used to always like to watch but you never got to the ending because you always fell asleep… always say the book was better anyways. Uhm… shit what was it called?”

“American Psycho?” Philip recalls, smiling softly. 

“Yeah, that. We never read it together.”

“We didn’t but it’s a good book. A little oddball but it was a good book. Really ventures into the human psyche- I just… I can’t make it through the damn movie. I don’t even know why. Not that’s it’s boring.”

“One of those movies.”

“Yeah- like you just can’t stand to sit through it.”

“And then you always wake up anguished.”

Philip laughs. “Was it on TV or you just happened to be watching it when I called?”

“It was on TV, on FX- I don’t know why but it was on and nothing better was on. It’s competitors were Inception and American Beauty and we both know how I feel about American Beauty.”

“American Beauty is a good movie. It’s the idealism of combatting suburban life and embracing the absurd and abnormal, alongside the storyline of the father- totally great, who would have guessed. Who shot the dad? Was it his wife, was it his daughter? Was it Kevin Bacon’s character’s dad?”

“You don’t remember a single character’s name.”

“Well I haven’t watched it in a while!” Philip says laughing and Laurelle laughs too. It was nice to laugh like this sometimes, about the absurd and the relatable.

“Okay but it’s perverted and weird. That girl was sixteen and he was praying on her. She’s young and impressionable.”

“Come  _ on.  _ I was sixteen when you were 19,” he offers in rebuttal to Laurelle.

“And that’s so totally different because we were both still teenagers and now I’m twenty one and you’re  _ turning  _ eighteen-”

“Babe that’s how time works.”

“Babe?”

“Don’t get cocky,” Philip warns. “It just slipped like that.”

“Yeah okay.”

“Anyways, my point is that that man was like in his late forties and she was sixteen. It’s way wrong, way perverted. He’s an adult and she’s a child basically. She was the friend of his daughter.”

“Okay, true. But the wife also cheated-”

“With a man reasonably about her age.”

“Arguably she did it to survive and I understand that. She slept with him, she got what she wanted and that was a sale from her job. Work with the competition, get the sale.”

“And inception was just boring.”

“So American Psycho?”

“Yeah.”

“Which arguably is way less morally conscious than American Beauty.”

“Yeah but it’s a reasonably different kind of moral conscious. Like Fight Club? Immorality and destruction at it’s peak  _ but  _ arguably a powerful peace and in no way shape or form is it in the same league. American Beauty is meant to be small suburbia gone wrong. Run away with the boyfriend who sells crack, die the prominent death, the wife who cheated- it’s like Melanie Martinez’s  _ Dollhouse.  _ Messed up behind closed doors.”

“Misconceptionism. Okay. But American Psycho can arguably be that same thing- like with the girl in the bedroom? Misconceptionism, she doesn’t know a flying fuck about who he is or what he’s feeling, she just knows that they’re fucking.”

“Than on the same page, Fight Club is-”

“Misconceptionism,” they say together. Philip sighs but he smiles at Laurelle, somehow it all applies to himself. To Lukas, he is all but a misconception. 

“Hey how’s your new place- with those people in the country?” Laurelle finally asks. 

“Oh they’re good people. Helen is… Helen. She’s a cop with trust issues, difficult, trying, a little hard around the edges but Gabe is great. He’s a good guy. Sometimes it feels like he’s kinda actually my dad or that he could be.”

“That’s sweet. Have you been making friends? I mean country kids suck but there has to be a few who aren’t so bad.”

“Yeah I’ve made a few. The coffee guy from school, Andrew, and some of his friends. Uhm… I have a boyfriend. Lukas.”

“From the country?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s he like?”

“Well… he’s nice. Yeah I mean, he’s nice.” 

Laurelle lets that sink in, chewing over it, and the tone.  _ He’s nice.  _ Philip had never been short on words with him. If his boyfriend was just ‘nice’ then something wasn’t coming over. “That’s it? He must be a thrill then. Is he clean white sheet bed spread kinda sex?” 

“He’s… we talk sometimes in front of the kids at school and only go on dates in places he’s sure nobody would see, doesn’t really accept we’re dating kinda not having sex.”

“Right… he sounds, the way you put it, ‘nice’,” Laurelle says with a drawl and Philip almost laughs but it comes out as a scoff. His knee lifts to his chest and he hugs it. A hand reaches for his coffee and he sips. Thin, still warm, burning and bitter. 

“It’s misconceptual. He thinks I’m just slightly agonized by my life with my mom, otherwise pretty and perfect with the sweet voice who brings him down from panic. It’s mostly a one sided dance but he’s nice.”

“I bet you love him.”

“I wish I did. When he’s not trying so hard to cover up what we are… well he can be fun. We can talk. But Lukas isn’t like-”  _ isn’t like you, Laurie.  _ Philip wants to say but he can’t bring himself to. It feels like Betrayal and it stings almost as much as the coffee, which tastes a little dirty and he wonders when the last time they cleaned the coffee machine was. 

Laurelle picks up on the notion though and takes his hand, Philip lets him kiss his knuckles. His dark skin looks almost golden in the orange-y lighting, he imagines that it was meant to be quirky when the store was bought. A modern, urban kinda city-vibe, night hawks with a twist and doors added on. His curls are pulled back in a ponytail that curls like a bun. Philip has to resist running his hands through them, kissing his head, and holding his hand. Philip craves Laurelle’s touch more than anything. The world seemed so dark but Laurelle was golden in it all, still standing with such pride and radiance. 

“You’re such a Laurelie Gilmore trope type,” Laurelle decides.

“Who’s that make you?”

“Luke… or maybe christopher. Except, the catch is, I know we end up together. Because we always do.” 

“You are getting very ahead of yourself.”

“You’re here now.”

“I just needed to talk.”

“And you knew I would listen.”  

“You always do.”

“In the end it’s always us.”

Philip nods and leans forward against his knee, sipping slowly at the coffee. “This is all very… well Jeez I don’t know.”

He thinks about how Lukas is probably at home, maybe texting him, maybe looking at the pictures he has with him, maybe not thinking of him at all and he thinks about how Laurelle is sitting here, at 2 AM with the worst coffee in the world- all because Philip wanted to. He wonders if he called Lukas at 2 Am if he would do the same. Or if Lukas would be sleeping now, if he would wake up and groggily trudge out to meet philip to the abandoned town all because Philip’s head wouldn’t stop. 

“A lot has been happening,” Philip finally decides. “That’s what I called you.”

Laurelle looks up from his cup where he’s tracing the pattern so delicately and innocently. Philip wants to hold his wrist and trace the patterns with him. “You wanna talk about?” he asks, picking up the cup to sip and Philip nods.

“Lukas and I were shooting some film, for his motocross sponsors, and we went to his dad’s cabin after… started making out. We were there forever, even though he was so scared of what was happening and we just kissing… our shirts came off and we kept kissing. His lips were trailing down my stomach and he was up in my neck and we always ended up kissing. Then you know, before anything real could happen- these guys were parking outside. And we panicked so we hid. We witnessed a triple homicide that night and that guy almost killed me. Lukas hit him with something though and he fell. We thought at first he died and one of the others lived but… he lived. And he killed so many people. All because we couldn’t tell, all because he was afraid.”

Philip looks down, tears pooling in his eyes and Laurelle shifts closer, a palm raising to rest on his the cheek furthest from him, wiping the tear that left his left eye. Philip leans into his touch and it occurs to him that Lukas might be dreaming about him, might be waiting on him to get home from his friend’s place at the city. But his pieces for falling and rarely did Lukas pick them up. He just wanted to feel right- was comfort always such a shameful thing? 

“I just… I can’t take it sometimes. Thinking of everything that’s happened, and then some. Is it even wrong to say that the homicide isn’t even the worst thing to happen to me? That it hurts but it hurts on top of everything else. The beatings, the rape, the night that I drowned and was revived. All the time spent just a shell of a person in a hospital room…”

“And then some,” Laurelle finishes.

“Hiding for my mom-”

“Hiding for that boy.”

“And hiding for my foster parents. Like I could just keep everything perfect. Like holding the pieces of a shattered mirror together, momentarily delaying that the cracks were present and you let go and they clatter. The illusion falls- and when he finds out, finds out everything? He would never even think to love me back.” 

“And how do you know? You’re amazing regardless… If he doesn’t see all you are for who you are then don’t give him that luxury.”

“I just… I thought I could put this all behind me. I thought you moved on and I should too. And I thought he was my shot at happiness but he… he’s better now. Things are different but it’s still there. The hiding, the secrets, sometimes I feel like I don’t know what’s going through his mind.”

“That’s okay, sometimes we don’t know what’s going on with other people… we don’t know what they’re struggling through.” 

Philip leans his head on Laurelle’s shoulder and his body slumps, and tears fall silently, his breath shudders but he doesn’t sob. It’s the silent call of the fallen bird, it’s the unheard timber of a tree in the woods. It’s lightening that flashes but no thunder that follows. If Laurelle could fix him he would. But Laurelle can only do so much, and now all he can do is hold Philip and reassure him as silently as one should, that it would be okay. 

They always end up together in the end, but they weren’t at the end yet, Philip wasn’t his to have yet. And he wouldn’t hurt the boy he loved, not when the boy he loved was hurting. 

**Author's Note:**

> leave comments please!


End file.
